


Reassurance

by Serpentine



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: HC Bingo, M/M, mostly written before OOTP, old school snarry angst, prompt: learning to be loved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-28 15:39:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/309413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serpentine/pseuds/Serpentine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Severus can't quite believe Harry is happy with him.  When he finds the courage to let Harry lead, though, he finds that all Harry wants is more of what he already has.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reassurance

Harry always seemed to know when he needed reassurance.

When Severus gave over control, the flutter of automatic fear in his stomach making him tense and defensive, Harry always managed to reassure him, knowing in some mysterious way what was needed.

The first time, beset by fears that Harry only tolerated his touch, that as a young and virile man Harry resented the domineering need for control that put him always on the receiving end in their interactions, he'd bared his throat and stilled his body, giving himself over to whatever Harry chose to do with him. Harry had rolled to sit astride his waist and leaned over to kiss him with sudden excitement.

It was not a kiss lacking in confidence, or in direction. Severus had braced for a taste of his own medicine; the firm kiss said that Harry knew he was in control and was comfortable with it, and it was very much like his own usual initiations when the power was his. Harry's hands had explored his body, far more thoroughly than Severus usually allowed -- Severus kept him gasping and moaning far too much to be so coordinated, or determined.

Harry's expression above him said he was enjoying the chance to wander his lover's body freely. A certain quirk of Harry's brows suggested that he hadn't yet puzzled out what was behind this new behaviour of Snape's, but not knowing evidently wasn't going to interfere with his enjoyment. Maybe, Severus thought, disquieted, Harry had been waiting for a chance like this for longer than Severus had guessed.

Severus lay quietly save for the occasional gasp or moan, hands twitching with the need to push away or seize the strong shoulders and regain control of the situation; a need to touch the one who touched him so gently, so firmly, with such happiness and wonder. With such enthusiasm. Harry's mouth was roaming wherever it could reach, tracing ears, collarbones, and lips with equal care.

"Touch me," Harry whispered in his ear, after what felt like years of patience, and Severus' hands flew to obey. Harry's spine was curved in a sensuous arch as he worked with mouth and hands on his lover's body; the tension of its arch, each sensual shiver, the geometry of seduction beneath his fingers, felt like a willow wand bent in his hands, pliable but strong. He did not let his hands wander below the small of Harry's back.

The room was superheated; both were panting. Severus was squirming, not unpleasantly, by the time Harry's hands slid over his hipbones and, instead of veering away again, slid gently over his cock. Sev bucked and gave a soft cry, and the touch came again, and again, and again, and he arched into it as he stroked Harry's chest, his face, and heard Harry fumble in the nightstand drawer.

Tensing was impossible, even when a slick finger trailed down his cleft, circled his entrance, retreated. It returned after only a moment and entered him slightly, tiny thrusts teasing him more than anything else. Very, very slowly, it entered him until it brushed his prostate. He nearly arched off the bed, and as with his cock the touch came again at his response, till he was whimpering.

Over him, Harry shifted, sliding downward carefully to take Severus into his mouth, laving a hot trail around the crown eagerly before sliding all the way down. The finger rubbing his prostate withdrew, but he was too occupied to really protest. When he felt Harry swallow around him he lost his last grasp on dignity and heard his own voice shatter the silence of the room as his hands flew instinctively to Harry's hair.

Harry had only one arm across his hips, pressing down hard enough to limit his thrusts, but not imobilising him, so if Harry felt he was being too demanding, he still had a hand free to pry Severus' fingers loose. It didn't happen, so he took it for permission. "Please, yes, oh," he managed, the closest he'd come to English in a long time. The hot mouth released him, and the tongue that had been tormenting him licked once up his shaft. Then Harry was moving, and before Severus could process the motion Harry had straddled him again and pushed down, with a short cry as he was penetrated.

Sevus cried out at the unexpected tight, slick heat that enveloped him, and surrendered to pleasure and to _Harry_. He arched up into Harry's heat, hips leaving the bed completely. He grabbed for the young man's shoulders, dragged him down and stifled his loud cries with his mouth. He held Harry's head down, one hand cradling the back of his skull, the other on his neck. His heart was fluttering with more than adrenaline, as Harry drove himself up and down, legs working, spine tensing, moaning into Severus' mouth.

Harry's hand had seized his own cock, and he worked it rapidly until he came, head thrown back, tearing free of Severus's lips to call his name. Orgasm held him rigid for long moments, muscles tight and quivering, spinal arch suddenly reversed. When he collapsed, panting, on Severus' chest, he caressed one sharp collarbone gently, then rolled them both over and let Severus take his mouth again as he thrust harder. Harry's legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him close, encouraging the increasing strength of his movements as he sought his own release.

He found it, not too long after, coming with a cry of "Harry!" and a feeling of bonelessness. For long minutes afterward, he had no energy to move, and when he would have rolled away, Harry added a hand on his nape to the clench of his legs, efficiently trapping his lover. Well, if it didn't bother Harry to be his mattress...

He drifted off easy in body and mind, with a bone-deep certainty that Harry would still be here in the morning.


End file.
